


With You (From Dusk Till Dawn)

by writingalaxies



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Isaac returns from France, M/M, Protective Isaac, Scott McCall Needs a Hug, Scott-Centric, references to Motel California because I like to suffer, set after 4x09, the one with the bonfire and gasoline
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-09
Updated: 2017-09-09
Packaged: 2018-12-25 15:44:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12039069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingalaxies/pseuds/writingalaxies
Summary: Scott stared at him in stunned disbelief, unable to do anything but watch as Isaac offered him a tentative smile.And then Isaac tilted his head slightly, almost sheepish, and said, "Salut," in the softest, safest tone.





	With You (From Dusk Till Dawn)

Scott kept his breaths as shallow as possible on the way home. The smell of the bonfire's smoke still lingered in his nose and, combined with the gasoline soaking his clothes, Scott felt terrifyingly reminded of a different night, another encounter with death he'd barely escaped.  
  
He needed a shower, or two - anything to get the threat of fire off his skin and the memories out of his heavy bones.  
  
When he walked up to his front door, feet almost dragging across the ground with each step, the familiar sight sent a shiver of relief down his spine that wouldn't subside even as he fumbled for the key, his hands trembling beyond his control just like Liam had when Scott dropped him off at his house.  
  
"Will you be okay?" Scott had asked quietly and accepted Liam's hesitant nod although there was enough fear in Liam's eyes for both of them to drown in. He'd waited until the door closed behind Liam, and then waited a little longer, listening to the boy's rapid heartbeat slowly calming in the familiarity of his home and parents. It had taken all of his determination to walk away and let Liam out of his sight and senses. He was only fifteen. He shouldn't have to deal with getting poisoned and almost burned alive in an empty school corridor while his classmates got drunk at a party.  
  
 _I did this to him_ , Scott thought, grimacing at the squeaking sound of his own front door.  _I painted the target at his chest myself._  
  
He was so caught up in guilt and exhaustion that he didn't notice anything off - no additional heartbeat, no painfully familiar scent - until his lowered gaze fell on the suitcase in the middle of the hallway. Scott froze. There were voices in the kitchen, his mother's, someone else's, and just as it hit him, they fell silent.  
  
For a moment Scott wasn't quite sure how breathing worked and sucked in a rush of air that burned all the way down his throat. He raised his head, about to call out to his mum in a voice he hoped wouldn't crack, when she walked around the corner - with Isaac right on her heels.  
  
He didn't slump his shoulders anymore like he used to, as if he'd grown into himself in a way he hadn't before leaving Beacon Hills. There was a plain hoodie where a leather jacket and faded t-shirts used to be, but the messy curls and wide eyes full of kindness were the same. Scott stared at him in stunned disbelief, unable to do anything but watch as Isaac offered him a tentative smile.  
  
And then Isaac tilted his head slightly, almost sheepish, and said, "Salut," in the softest, safest tone.  
  
Scott felt the corners of his mouth twitching upwards as well because it was impossible not to mirror that smile. "You came back," he said gently, tension starting to seep out of his body and he was seconds away from moving towards Isaac and pulling him in a hug when he remembered the gasoline and barely suppressed a flinch, remaining frozen in place.  
  
Out of the corner of his eye, he caught his mum's worried gaze.  
  
"Scott, are you alright?" she asked, just as Isaac's nose scrunched up and unmasked concern radiated off him.  
  
"Is that gasoline?"  
  
"Isaac -"  
  
Melissa was at Scott's side in a heartbeat and he barely managed to step back before she could touch him. "Scott. What happened?"  
  
He sighed, the sound of a lighter being flicked on cracking through his head like thunder. Scott closed his eyes for a brief moment and tried to focus on the steady rhythm of Isaac's heartbeat instead. "There was a ... trap ... at the bonfire. But it's okay. I'm okay, I just. Need to go take a shower."  
  
She didn't look convinced but if he stayed here in his wet clothes any longer he wouldn't be able to push the smell to the back of his mind anymore. Scott looked at her, squeezed her hand for a moment. "Mum, I'm fine, I promise."  
  
Her worried frown remained firmly in place but after a few more seconds of hesitation, she relented. "Okay. I'll go grab some bed sheets for Isaac." She turned to the werewolf in question and Scott saw her expression shift into something equally warm and stern. "You keep an eye on him, okay?"  
  
Scott felt his cheeks heat up. "Mum!"  
  
But instead of being embarrassed or caught off-guard, Isaac just returned Melissa's gaze and nodded calmly. Somehow, impossibly, it seemed like the most natural thing in the world. Scott watched the exchange, still a little overwhelmed by the fact that Isaac was really here, here in the hallway instead of across the Atlantic, and maybe it didn't matter how long he'd been gone. Isaac's home was still here.  
  
As he quietly moved past Isaac and his mum and towards the stairs, Scott caught himself hoping that would never change.  
  
He was just grabbing clean clothes out of his wardrobe when he heard Isaac laugh softly, both his and Melissa's heartbeats relaxed and soothing Scott's frayed nerves as Isaac told her, "I'm gonna bring my stuff upstairs."  
  
Scott clutched the old hoodie and sweatpants he'd chosen tightly and headed to the bathroom, more than ready to scrub the phantom fire off his skin and remind himself that everyone was safe right now,  _home_ , and if he tried hard enough, maybe his bones would stop weighing him down so heavily for a while.  
  
He turned the water to the brink of uncomfortably hot and stood under the spray for what felt like hours, eyes closed a little too tightly as he blindly reached for his shampoo and then the shower gel. There was an itch beneath his skin he knew he couldn't scratch away - faint leftover traces of an emptiness that once made him want to drop a lit-up torch at his feet and end it all. Months had passed since that day and it was okay, it  _was_ , Scott had almost managed to lock the overwhelming smell and the tears in Stiles' eyes away into corners his mind wouldn't reach even on a bad day - but now he'd been thrown back to square one, reeking of gasoline no matter how much citrus scented shower gel he rubbed into his skin.  
  
Briefly, he wondered if the scent would haunt Liam or Malia just as badly and next thing he knew he'd punched a large crack into the tiles of the shower wall, his knuckles aching.  
  
He heard Isaac call his name a room away and dropped his forehead against the tiles, breathing. "I'm fine," Scott said, and he could have excused his quiet words with the fact that Isaac's werewolf senses would pick up on them anyway but the truth was, he couldn't quite muster the energy to raise his voice.  
  
He turned the water off and got dressed slowly, his breaths shallow again because if the shower gel hadn't been enough, the scent of detergent on his clothes wouldn't help much, either.  
  
Isaac was sitting on his bed when Scott returned to his room, fingers tangling restlessly in his lap but they stopped their movement when Isaac looked up at Scott. "Wanna tell me what happened?" he asked before Scott had a chance to ask any questions of his own. (Why did you come back? How've you been doing? Do you still miss her like I do?)  
  
Scott avoided Isaac's eyes and sat down next to him, shoulders drooping. He thought of all the ways to start this conversation and even more reasons to not begin it in the first place, and what he ended up saying was, "I turned someone, Isaac."  
  
He didn't need to see the frown to know it was there when, after a considerable pause, Isaac said, "But that's not how you ended up covered in gasoline, is it? Who did this to you?"  
  
Scott heard the edge in his voice, the nervous jump his heart made, and finally looked at Isaac. He'd been in the motel, too. He'd understand. Or maybe he understood too well.  
  
"It doesn't matter," Scott said, words hoarse when they left his mouth.  _It wasn't me this time_. "There's a lot of people trying to kill us right now, but what else is new. They won't succeed." He thought of Liam's terrified young eyes, Malia's fierceness, Kira's gentle smiles. "I won't let them."  
  
Isaac shook his head. "That doesn't make it okay, Scott."  
  
"What?"  
  
"You almost died today." He huffed out a breath and looked at Scott with something raw and hurting in his gaze, lips briefly pressed into a tight line before he continued. "Do I even want to know how many times that happened while I was gone?"  
  
Scott sighed. "I'm fine, okay?"  
  
"Then why are you shaking?"  
  
And it wasn't until Isaac moved closer and covered Scott's hands with his own that Scott noticed the tremor keeping hold of his body - his hands, his shoulders, even his knees. Isaac's warm touch vibrated through his nerve-endings like lightning and suddenly Scott saw the lighter dropping to the ground in his mind, fire exploding and spreading around him, on him,  _everywhere_ , until he closed his trembling fingers around Isaac's calm ones and squeezed desperately. There were cracks in his bathroom tiles and cracks in his voice when he tried and failed to speak, and he didn't even know what to say in the first place.  
  
 _Why are you shaking?_  
  
 _Because there's no hope. Not for me._  
  
"Scott," Isaac whispered. " _Breathe._ "  
  
 _Why are you shaking?_  
  
Scott could only stare at him with wide eyes, clinging to his hands. "I don't," he broke off, gasping for air and trying to swallow against the lump in his throat and the smell of smoke at the same time. "I don't know."  
  
He closed his eyes for a moment, just to see if he'd remember how to breathe in the darkness but he didn't, he couldn't. Instead, he felt the mattress dip as Isaac shifted closer to him. Their thighs were touching, shoulders brushing, and Isaac's face was right in front of him when he said, "You're panicking."  
  
"No, no - " Scott pulled one of his hands away from Isaac's and clutched Isaac's hoodie instead, his grip on the soft fabric strong enough to turn his knuckles white. He felt himself being weighed down not just by exhaustion but by soaking wet clothes and Malia and Liam defenseless on the floor next to him, death just a little flame away. He couldn't protect them. " _No,_ " he repeated, his voice breaking like Stiles' had when he said he'd rather die with Scott than let him burn alone.  
  
A dry sob pushed past his lips and Scott shook his head vehemently; this couldn't be happening, he was okay, he'd  _survived_ , he was supposed to be -  
  
"It's okay," Isaac said into the middle of his thoughts and then there was a hand at Scott's neck, warmth and gentle pressure anchoring him to the present and he didn't even think about resisting when Isaac gently pushed him down until Scott's forehead rested on his shoulder. "You don't have to be strong all the time, Scott."  
  
"I  _do,_ " he whispered into Isaac's hoodie as choked, hurried breaths wracked through his body and almost had both of them shaking. "I'm an Alpha."  
  
Isaac moved his hand up to the back of his head and carded careful fingers through Scott's damp hair. "Alphas can be scared, too." And there was a stutter in his heartbeat, a twitch in his hand that was still holding Scott's. "We don't have to talk about anything tonight. But you don't have to be brave now, either, okay?"  
  
Scott nodded against his shoulder and turned his face slightly when he felt his eyes start to burn. It felt like surrender. "I'm glad you're here," he told Isaac shakily, blinking tears away. And then it was pure instinct that had him pulling his legs up onto the mattress and in the barely existent space between them until he was pretty much curled up on Isaac's lap and in his arms. "You shouldn't have come back but ... I'm glad you did." Scott whispered the words into Isaac's neck and listened to the other's pulse quickening when their meaning hit.  
  
"Why shouldn't I be here?"  
  
Scott exhaled. It sounded like a sob again; Isaac's arms around him tightened. "There's a dead pool. A list of every supernatural person in town and a fortune of reward for their deaths. You'd be safer in France."  
  
"I don't belong in France," Isaac said fiercely. "Trust me, I'm right where I want to be."  
  
 _But you're in danger here_ , Scott wanted to tell him. His head was overflowing with things he wanted to say:  
  
 _I missed you._

_How am I supposed to keep you safe?_

_I can't lose you._

_I missed you so much._  
  
What he ended up saying was, "I'm scared, Isaac." He shivered with the weight of the words, the terrifying confession. Blinking his tears back any longer was impossible.  
  
Scott lifted his head to look at Isaac, palm pressed against Isaac's chest as if his pulse was Scott's lifeline and it might as well have been because the fire was lit now and there was no stopping it. He watched Isaac's expression shift and soften, saw those gentle blue eyes drop to his lips for the smallest moment and Scott felt like he'd just willingly stripped down every last one of his defenses.  
  
"That's okay," Isaac said, drawing feather-light circles on Scott's back with his fingertips.  
  
Scott's breath hitched again but this time it was something he could handle. He felt Isaac's soft exhales on his cheek and he didn't care about the tears there when he leaned forward to close the short distance between them. His lips met Isaac's and he slumped against him, letting himself be held up for once as if Atlas had been given a brief chance to drop the weight of the sky off his shoulders and remember what it felt like to be light and, for a glorious moment, free of the fear of everything crashing down around him.  
  
There was no gasoline anymore, no heavy clothes and heavier bones. Just Isaac.  
  
Isaac, who sighed softly into the kiss and pulled him closer, one hand at the small of Scott's back, the other at his jaw; not pushing or guiding, just holding onto him.  
  
"Stay here," Scott mumbled when they pulled away from each other with the barest of movements, thinking about the bed Melissa had prepared in the guest room.  
  
Isaac's eyes flickered to the door and then back to Scott, soft and trusting and vulnerable and perfectly mirroring Scott's own emotions. A simple nod was answer enough, and Scott thought maybe being afraid wasn't so scary after all. There was enough time to be brave when the sun went up at dawn. Until then, he could kiss Isaac again - a little sloppy and uncoordinated but soft, so soft, eyelids drooping and noses brushing.  
  
"You okay?" Isaac asked him quietly when they laid down to sleep eventually, Scott's back safely tucked against Isaac's chest, and Scott was silent for a long moment before he closed his eyes and said, "I don't know. But I think I will be."

**Author's Note:**

> someone take care of Scott McCall please, this boy is traumatized and has been through enough and I am sad


End file.
